Between 1840 and 1847 the Mexican province of Yucatán witnessed a remarkable explosion of rural political violence. Contemporaries were well aware of the trend, for they referred to it through vivid phrases such as “uprisings,” “murder and other excesses,” “restless and turbulent spirits,” and “the storm which threatens us close at hand.” And by all accounts these episodes were something new to the society. Indeed, Yucatán had suffered a good deal less violence than had other regions of Mexico. Until 1847 nothing here had remotely approached the chaos of the Hidalgo revolt or the Morelos insurgency. It is impossible for historians, just as it was for contemporary observers, to avoid connecting the violence to the Caste War, the massive rural rebellion which would erupt in 1847. But what was the connection? And what does the political violence tell us about the nature of rural Mexican society?

The Caste War of Yucatán, beginning in 1847, was the most successful revolt by a native people in the new world. The Maya almost drove the whites from the peninsula, and although they were in turn forced back into the uninhabited forest of eastern Yucatán, they defended themselves there for many years, maintaining a certain independence to this day. Their successful resistance was based on the refuge zone of dense forest, on the availability of weapons and munitions from adjoining British Honduras, on the appearance of a prophet who created a new religion and on the subsequent appearance of a leader who used that religion to form an independent society. New information has become available in recent years on this important nativistic movement; this article reviews the origins of the Cross, the nature of its prophet, Juan de la Cruz, and the achievements of his successor, Venancio Puc, without whom the new religion would not have survived.

In May 1866, almost twenty years after the outbreak of the Maya rebellion of 1847, the juez de paz of Tekax in the Puuc or Sierra region of southern Yucatán recorded the testimony of a Maya peasant by the name of Herculano Balam. Herculano, along with his father and his cousin, had been picked up by local authorities for questioning following a lengthy absence from their home village of Cantamayec in the district of Sotuta. The three prisoners had been detained because they were suspected of being spies sent by the Maya rebels of Chan Santa Cruz to persuade local Maya to join them in their continuing struggle against the creole government of Yucatán. Herculano’s statement does not shed much light on whether or not he and his companions were, in fact, “spies.” Nonetheless, his testimony is extremely important for it contains rare evidence of contact between the Maya rebels of Chan Santa Cruz, the pacíficos del sur, and the peasants of central Yucatán. At the same time, Herculano’s travels provoke interesting questions about the interaction between peasants and guerrillas, and the relationship of individuals to communities, which lead us, in turn, to the nature of peasant politics in the aftermath of the rebellion.

The Caste War that devastated Yucatán in the middle of the nineteenth century cast a long shadow across ethnic relations and politics in the state decades after its effective end. During the Mexican Revolution and the subsequent period of national reconstruction, revolutionary politicians invoked the Caste War as a precursor to the Revolution and as justification for post-Revolutionary projects, in particular indigenismo. The state’s indigenist policy advocated, in the words of Alan Knight, the “emancipation and integration of Mexico’s exploited Indian groups.” To this end, it offered indigenous people education, legal support, even land; however, these “modernizing” policies also destroyed or appropriated much of their culture and subordinated them to the state. The legacy of the Caste War shaped such indigenist projects in Yucatán from the Revolution to (at least) the 1930s, but its influence was strongest during Cardenas’ visit to Yucatán in August of 1937. The president not only reinterpreted the Caste War to justify land reform and a broad indigenist project; he attempted to mobilize the Yucatecan peasantry along class and ethnic lines and threatened recalcitrant landlords with another caste war should they oppose him. Once armed, however, peasant soldiers turned their rifles not against the landowners but against each other. This essays explores how the Caste War’s legacy shaped the development and deployment of indigenist projects in Yucatán from the Revolution to the late 1930s, focusing on Cárdenas’ aborted mobilization. Along the way, it will consider the impact and efficacy of state-sponsored indigenismo. Above all, it seeks to understand why state efforts to champion the cause of the Maya failed to unify the rural poor of Yucatán under the banner of Cardenismo.